of days past

of days past

 

They were Republicans, Goldwater Republicans.  

He was really a libertarian, and enjoyed explaining why.  

She was a stay with our leader and prosperity 

Eisenhower liberal wanna-be elite.

 

Broad labels to secure, to bind

little lives.  Little ways of coping through the days,

dinner parties, backyard barbeques.

 

It's all about the vignettes, when no one's watching.

The mind's eye snaps a photograph, 

pulls it out from time to time,

to remember 

that we were

becoming

were believing and trying to understand

all the waves and illusions.

 

Something moves in my vision.

A wing, a wave of hair,

a blossom in the wind?

Something.

There is a wisdom and

a mystery.

There is more than meets the eye.

There is emotion, 

brewing up a storm.

 

Staying, 

curled up in a warm blanket

sipping cocoa

watching the storm outside.

Affixed to the fascination

of the flame dancing,

of the wind wilding,

of the window between.

 

Days when all I can do is listen.

I have no words with which to speak.

There are days when the bubbling stew

speaks to me,

and the comfort

is all that I

can bear.